


More Than Skin Deep

by moondragon23



Category: Psych
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Minor whump, Pre-Relationship, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1649129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondragon23/pseuds/moondragon23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night out drinking leads Shawn with a 'permanent' souvenir. It doesn't take long for the rest of the gang to find out and begin to speculate who inspired it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Picture is Worth a Thousand Complaints

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Psych or any of its characters. All other publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> This was originally a Shassie story but I loved it so much I wanted to share a version with all my other fans. So if you read the original, the first two chapters will seem really familiar.
> 
> Inspiration for both stories goes to PsychLassieFan4Ever and her inclusion of tattoos in Maroon5d. It resparked my own desire to write a Psych tattoo story.
> 
> The whole story is complete, but I like to space out the updates to give everyone a chance to read and review. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Shawn nervously tugged on his sleeve, making sure it was pulled down all the way to his wrist. He usually preferred to wear t-shirts, but today he didn't have a choice. Hopefully Gus wouldn't comment on it. He checked one more time his arm was completely covered, took a deep breath to calm himself, and walked into the office.

Gus looked up at him and frowned. “Long sleeves?”

He swore Gus had a sixth sense to immediately pick up on anything he didn't want his friend to notice. “It's a bit chilly today, Gus,” he said defensively.

Gus looked outside at the scantily clad beach goers walking past on the boardwalk. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I'm fine. I just wanted to wear something different today,” Shawn said belligerently. “Why, is wearing long sleeves suddenly illegal or something?”

Gus looked taken aback by his response. “No, I just thought it was a strange thing to wear when it's ninety degrees outside,” he said irritably.

“I don't think it's strange,” Shawn said, tugging again on the end of his sleeve. “Are you done attacking me now over my wardrobe choices?”

Gus threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Wear what you want. Just don't come crying to me when you're suffering from heat stroke.”

“Don't worry, I won't,” Shawn snapped back.

“Good.”

“Fine.”

They both glared at each other. Gus turned away with a huff, going back to whatever he had been doing on his computer before Shawn walked in.

Shawn went and sat at his desk. He carefully laid his arm down, palm up, checking the sleeve again to make sure everything was covered. He glanced at Gus, but his friend was ignoring him. He hated when they fought, but at least it had kept his friend from asking any more questions. Relaxing slightly, he opened his own laptop and got to work.

* * *

Two hours of YouTube videos later, Shawn's stomach started to rumble. He got up and went to the fridge to see if Gus had bought more snacks for the office. “Oooo, pudding packs!” He eagerly reached in and snapped one off.

“Toss me one?” Gus asked.

Shawn snapped off another and kicked the fridge closed. He awkwardly tossed it left-handed to Gus. His friend had to quickly slide his chair back, fumbling a bit as he grabbed it. “Dude!” Gus exclaimed, managing to keep his grip on the cup and glaring at him.

“Sorry, man.” He had always been bad at throwing with his left hand. He gripped his own cup tightly with his right hand but it made his arm ache. He switched to his left and used his teeth to pull off the lid. Only half came off, the rest firmly glued to the edges of the container. He shrugged and grabbed a spoon before walking back to his desk. He sat down and was about to dig in when he became aware of Gus watching him. “What?”

“Did you do something to your arm?” Gus asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Course not,” Shawn scoffed. He scooped up some pudding, managing to get it into his mouth in what he hoped was his usual smooth manner.

“I'm not an idiot Shawn.” Gus pointed at his right arm. “I can see the way you're holding your arm away from your body.”

“Nuh, uh.” He scooped up another spoonful, deliberately letting his arm brush against his side. He hid his wince in a happy hum as he ate his pudding.

Gus sighed. “Just tell me what you did.”

“I didn't _do_ anything,” Shawn insisted. “Don't be that apple your mom always packed in your lunch instead of cookies. I'm fine.” He finished the pudding and let his arm fall against the desk. He yelped, jerking it back and cuddling the injured limb against his body.

“Like hell you are.” Gus got up and came over to his desk. “Alright, let's see it.”

“No.” Shawn curled protectively around his arm, turning his back on Gus.

“Shawn, if you hurt yourself, you need to get it checked out.” Gus went around the desk, trying to get to him from the other side.

“I'm fine,” he said, spinning away again.

Gus grabbed the back of his chair and dragged it away from the desk. “That's cheating!” Shawn yelled, digging his heels in. He grabbed the edge of his desk as he passed and hung on tightly.

They struggled briefly over the chair, then Gus suddenly let go. Shawn wasn't expecting it and he flew forward, smacking his legs on the side of the desk. The chair twisted and started to lean. He tried to keep himself upright but all he managed to do was turn himself so he landed right on his arm when he hit the floor. He cried out, clenching his eyes shut against the pain and curling into a ball on his side.

“Shawn?” Gus asked hesitantly.

Shawn cracked open his eyes and glared at his friend. “Happy now?” he asked sarcastically, blinking away tears.

“This wouldn't have happened if you just told me what you did,” Gus said, though he sounded guilty. He reached down and helped pull Shawn to his feet.

“It also wouldn't have happened if you had just left me alone,” Shawn snapped. His arm was throbbing now, from his fingers all the way up to his shoulder. He dug around in his desk for some aspirin and struggled to get the bottle open one handed.

“Here.” Gus grabbed the bottle and opened it for him. He also went to the sink and got him a glass of water.

Shawn nodded his thanks, popping a couple of pills and drinking the entire glass of water. He placed the glass on the desk and looked nervously at Gus. “Now what?”

Gus crossed his arms. “Now you tell me what you did to your arm.”

Shawn sighed in defeat. “It will be easier to show you.” He carefully rolled up his sleeve and held his arm out towards Gus.

Gus's eyes widened in shock. “Oh my God, Shawn! Is that real?”

“I sure hope so,” Shawn said dryly. “Otherwise, that was a really expensive press on.”

“Didn't it hurt?” Gus asked.

“I don't really remember. I was kind of drunk,” Shawn admitted.

“But, really, Shawn? A tattoo?” Gus asked disapprovingly.

“All the cool kids have them,” Shawn said defensively. He didn't see what the big deal was. It was just a tattoo.

Just a picture drawn on his skin that he would have to live with for the rest of his life. . . OK, maybe he did see what the big deal was, but Gus didn't have to freak out so much about it.

Gus tilted his head, frowning. “Is it supposed to look all blotchy like that?”

“It's still healing,” Shawn said defensively. Though he had to admit his arm wasn't great to look at right at this moment.

“Your arm looks swollen,” Gus said worriedly.

“Yup. You should touch it. It's kind of like poking a balloon that's about to pop.” He poked the side of his arm a couple of times in show.

“I'll pass.” Gus wrinkled his nose in disgust before he glanced up from Shawn's arm and gave him a look. “You should have called me.”

“Why? So you could pass out from all the blood?” Shawn waved at his arm. “It was a whole lot bloodier than I thought it would be. Though I guess it makes sense; I was getting my arm cut up by a bunch of tiny needles.”

Gus looked a little green but he still gave Shawn an impressive glare. “ _No_. So I could try to convince you not to do it.”

“Which is why I didn't call you,” Shawn said reasonably. “I was drunk, not stupid.”

“I'd say getting a tattoo counts as pretty stupid to me,” Gus argued. “What the hell were you thinking?

Shawn sighed. “We were drinking, and Emily was all like, 'Guys with tattoos are hot.'” He used a variation on his 'Jules voice' for Emily, high-pitched and nasally. “And I was all like, 'Really? 'Cause I've always wanted to get one.' Then suddenly we were at a tattoo parlor and this guy was asking me which arm I wanted it on and it was too late to back out. It would have ruined my tough guy reputation.”

Gus crossed his arms. “So what happened with Emily?”

“Well, she sort of left after an hour. I don't think the crying really impressed her,” Shawn admitted reluctantly.

Gus raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you didn't remember if it hurt.”

“I don't, exactly. I just remember thinking that it hurt.” He looked down at his arm. “I really hope it looks better when it heals. You can barely make out the shapes of the spots.”

“Spots are spots,” Gus said with a shrug. “If they're a little fuzzy on the edges no one would notice.”

“I would,” Shawn argued. “I was very specific on how some of them were supposed to look.”

“Why?” Gus asked suspiciously.

“No reason,” Shawn said quickly. “I just like the broken circle shapes more than the half-moon ones.”

Gus didn't look like he bought it. He grabbed Shawn's arm by the wrist, ignoring his hiss to be careful. He looked at the spots carefully, then pointed to two of them. “Are those letters?”

Shawn cringed. “No?”

Gus sighed in disgust. “You put some random girl's initials on your arm, didn't you?”

“I did not,” Shawn said truthfully. They weren't some _random_ girl's initials.  Really, Gus should give him more credit than that.

Gus studied the letters again. “G.  R. ?”  He looked at Shawn in horror. “Please tell me you did not get  _Gina_ _Repach's_ initials permanently tattooed on your arm.”

Shawn snorted. “Be reasonable, Gus. Of course they're not Gina's initials.” He shuddered slightly as he thought of that pretty, yet undoubtedly crazy girl. “ Besides, those aren't the  right  letters.”

“Then what are they?” Gus asked.

Shawn shook his head. “You're just going to have to wait until it heals.” He pulled his sleeve back down, hiding his tattoo from view. “ Now, if you don't mind, I believe someone owes  m e lunch for viciously mauling my arm.”

“I didn't maul you. The chair fell over.” Despite his argument, Gus went to his desk and grabbed the keys to the Blueberry.

“Because you pushed it,” Shawn argued.

“I didn't push it, I let go. You pulled it into the desk,” Gus said.

“It's still your fault.” Shawn stopped Gus before he could walk out the door. “In all seriousness, dude, could you promise not to tell anyone about this? _Especially_ my dad.” He shuddered. “I'd rather get my dick tattooed than endure the shouting match this will bring up.”

Gus punched him hard in the shoulder. “I didn't need that image in my head, Shawn,” he snapped irritably.

Shawn rubbed his injured shoulder, wondering how many bruises he was going to end up with today. “Gus, please?” He gave his friend his best sad puppy dog look.

Gus sighed. “Fine. But you know he'll find out eventually.”

“And hopefully I can make eventually on his death bed as he takes his last breath.” He considered that for a moment. “Or after he takes his last breath, so he doesn't have any air left to lecture me.”

“Good luck with that,” Gus said, shaking his head. “So, jerk chicken?”

“You know that's right,” Shawn said. He followed his friend out the door, checking his sleeve again. Looks like he better start buying more long sleeve shirts.


	2. A Rose By Any Other Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really hoping more people would review this story. I'm going to be optimistic and say everyone must be busy and hope you guys find time to read it over the long weekend.
> 
> I want to thank ladipretender on Psychfic and ThereWillOnlyEverBeOneMe, SnydersOfHanover, and Redwolffclaw on Fanfiction for reviewing this so far. I hope you guys like this chapter as well.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was another two days before Shawn had to really worry about anyone else finding out about his tattoo. During that time he stuck mainly to the Psych office or his apartment and made sure to wear long sleeves everywhere. He'd also avoided all phone calls from his father; he was pretty sure Henry didn't know about the tattoo yet and he planned to keep it that way.

Unfortunately, he couldn't hide forever. The Chief had called them in for a case, so now he had to brave a building full of sharp-eyed officers trained to ferret out deception. Of course, he had been fooling those same officers for several years with his psychic act, which helped lessen his nervousness.

Although, he would likely be working with Lassiter, who had never believed him from the beginning, and Juliet, who Shawn suspected was starting to catch on. Which put him right back where he started nerve wise.

“Stop fidgeting,” Gus hissed as they walked into the station.

“I'm not fidgeting,” Shawn hissed back. He stopped tugging on his sleeve and turned to Gus. “You better not give anything away,” he warned. “I know plenty of embarrassing things about you I can share. Like what really happened to the class hamster in fifth grade.”

Gus glared at him. “You were just as responsible for that as I was.”

“Not the way I plan on telling it,” Shawn said with an evil grin. “You _were_ the one holding it.” He pulled on his sleeve, trying to sooth his itching arm without it being obvious what he was doing.

“Quit scratching.” Gus smacked his arm. “You keep doing that and someone's going to notice.”

Shawn stifled a yelp, clutching his arm to his chest. “But it's itchy,” he whined.

“ Deal with it. Unless you want everyone to know you got a – ”

Shawn clamped a hand over Gus's mouth. “All right, dude. I get it. No more scratching. Just don't  _say_ it.” He glanced around but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to their conversation.

Gus wrenched his hand off his face. “Good. Now can we go find out about this case the Chief wants us on?”

“Certainly.” They headed towards the Chief's office. Shawn saw the door was closed and, after the last time, he wasn't too keen on just barging in. He detoured to Juliet's desk instead.

“Hey Jules,” he said, plopping down in the chair next to her desk. “I heard there's a case that requires our special talents.” His arm was still itchy. He carefully rubbed it against the side of the desk where Juliet couldn't see.

Juliet made a face. “Yeah. The bodies of two college students were found in the park this morning. The press already got wind of the story and the mayor is pressuring Vick to solve it as soon as possible.”

“Which is why she called us,” Shawn concluded. He reached out and patted her hand. “Don't worry Jules. We'll get the killer in no time.”

Juliet smiled at him. “I'm sure you will.”

His sleeve had ridden up when he moved his arm, exposing the edge of his tattoo. He casually adjusted it, making sure everything was covered. “So how about giving us a look at the case file?”

Juliet glanced towards Vick's office. “Vick wanted to brief you guys on this herself.”

Shawn gave her a winning smile. “Come on, Jules. We're going to see it eventually.”

“Well, okay.” She passed the file over to him. He opened it up as Gus came over to glance over his shoulder.

“Yuck,” he said as Gus started gagging. No wonder the mayor and Vick wanted this solved so quickly. Those bodies were pretty gruesome. He flipped through the file, trying to come up with something to present to the Chief in a 'vision.' “Where's Lassie?”

“Interviewing the people who found the body in Interrogation. I offered to help, but he said he could handle it on his own.” She sounded annoyed by her partner's apparent dismissal of her.

“ We both know he's a control freak, Jules. Don't take it too personally.” The itching in his arm was getting hard to ignore. He dug the edge of the folder against his arm slowly. “Makes you kind of wonder what his sex life is like,” he mused thoughtfully.

“Shawn!” Juliet exclaimed, face turning red.

Gus smacked him hard on the back of the head. “Knock it off, Shawn.” His eyes darted to Shawn's right arm and he raised an eyebrow.

Shawn tugged on his sleeve, annoyed by the double rebuke. Ignoring his friend, he grinned at the blushing detective. “Why Jules, that is a lovely shade of red your turning,” he said slyly.

“Shut up, Shawn,” she snapped, grabbing the case file from his hands.

“Hey wait! I wasn't done yet!” He lunged after the file, trying to grab it from her hand.

“You'll get it back when you behave,” she scolded, holding the file out of reach. When he kept trying to grab it, she smacked him on his right arm.

“Owww!” He immediately retreated, cradling his arm to his chest. While his arm wasn't nearly as painful as it was a few days ago, getting hit, even lightly, still hurt like hell.

“I didn't hit you that hard.” She frowned and placed the file on her desk.” Did you do something to your arm?”

“It's just a little sore from all the weight-lifting I did yesterday,” Shawn said quickly. He flexed his arm carefully, making sure the inside of it was facing him in chase the sleeve slipped down again.

Juliet didn't look impressed. “What happened, Gus?” she asked, turning to his weak-willed best friend.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened to Shawn's arm over the weekend,” Gus said nervously.

Juliet raised an eyebrow and glanced sideways at Shawn. “This weekend? Do tell,” she coaxed.

“Don't you dare, Gus,” Shawn warned. “Remember Mr. Fluffernutter.”

Gus looked back and forth between them, starting to sweat. He may have blackmail material but Juliet had this look that made even hardened criminals spill the ir darkest secrets. Gus wasn't a hardened  _anything_ and Shawn wasn't sure if the threat of Mr. Fluffernutter's demise getting out would keep his friend quiet. The two of them stared Gus down, waiting for him to respond.

“Shawn got a tattoo,” Gus blurted out.

“Gus dropped our class hamster out the window,” Shawn immediately retaliated.

Juliet would not be distracted. “ _You_ got a tattoo? Where? Why? What  is it? Can I see?” She looked at him eagerly, vibrating in a way that told Shawn she had a dozen more questions she was dying to ask. Several of which Shawn was positive he didn't want to answer.

Shawn glared at Gus. “Now see what you did?” He scratched his arm through his sleeve, not seeing any point in hiding it anymore.

“It's your own fault for getting it in the first place,” Gus said. “And stop scratching!” He smacked Shawn's left arm, earning himself another irritated glare.

“I see the circus has arrived.” Lassiter came over to the group, giving both Shawn and Gus disapproving looks. “As you are not officially on the case yet, why don't you wait over there and let O'Hara and I get some real work done before you two mess everything up.”

“Lassie! Cheerful as ever I see,” Shawn said with a grin.  He slowly counted backwards in his head.  _3\. . . 2. . .1_

“Shawn got a tattoo,” Juliet eagerly informed her partner.

_Right on cue._ Juliet loved to gossip. He had exploited this trait multiple times in the past, though right now it was working against him.

Lassiter raised an eyebrow. “Really? Didn't think you'd be able to handle the pain. Let me guess, it's a pineapple.”

Shawn shook his head. “Nope. Don't need a tattoo to remember my favorite fruit.” His arm felt like thousands of ants were crawling all over it. He knew Gus would smack him but he could not resist scratching it again.

Surprisingly, this time it was Lassiter smacking his arm. “Stop scratching, Spencer.”

“But it's so damn itchy,” Shawn whined loudly.

Gus sighed, giving Juliet a despairing look. “And I thought he whined a lot when it hurt. He's been driving me completely crazy, rubbing his arm against everything.”

Lassiter grabbed his hand as it inched back towards his right arm. “It's itchy because it's healing. You keep scratching it, you're going to draw out some of the ink and make it look patchy.” He shook his head in disgust. “Didn't they tell you any of this when you got the tattoo done?”

“Maybe. I  _was_ pretty drunk.” Shawn looked up at the detective, tilting his head curiously. “How do  _you_ know all that, Lassie?”

The detective went stiff and glared at Shawn. “It's none of your damn business.”

Shawn popped up out of the chair and poked Lassiter in the chest. “You have a tattoo, don't you?”

Lassiter crossed his arms and continued to glare. “I'm not saying anything.”

“That's not a 'no',” Shawn said in a sing-song voice. “I can't believe  _you_ of all people have some ink.”

“ Really, Carlton? Is that true?” Juliet asked, looking very interested.

Lassiter glanced at her, than back at Shawn. “Why don't you ask O'Hara about _her_ tattoo?”

“Carlton!” Juliet shrieked, turning bright red. “I told you not to tell anyone.”

“We're partners. If I'm going down, you're going down with me,” Lassiter said gruffly.

Shawn turned to the once again blushing detective. “ I'll show you mine if you show me yours,” he leered, giving her a wink.

Her blush deepened. “Um, I can't exactly show you with everyone around.”

Shawn's grin widened. This was just getting better and better. “No problem. Since Lassie is here, I take it the interrogation rooms are empty?” He grabbed Juliet's arm and started dragging her towards the stairs.

“Have fun,” Lassiter called after them, looking satisfied he had diverted Shawn's attention.

That is until Shawn came back and grabbed his arm too. “Oh no. I'm not letting you get out of this either, Lassie.” Ignoring the protests from both detectives, he dragged them towards the stairs. “Come on, Gus. You're going to miss all the fun,” he called back over his shoulder.

Somehow he managed to get both detectives  downstairs and  inside  one of the rooms without getting shot. Gus followed them in  and clos ed the door.

Shawn rubbed his hands together eagerly. “All right, who wants to go first?”

Juliet and Lassiter exchanged a look. “You started this,” Lassiter said.

“How did _I_ start it?” Juliet asked incredulously.

“I know for a fact that as soon as you found out Spencer had a tattoo you started asking a million questions,” Lassiter said. “If you had just left it alone, we wouldn't be in this mess.”

Juliet sighed. “Fine. I'll go first.” She grabbed the edge of her shirt, looking at them nervously. Slowly she lifted it up, exposing a long stem rose tattooed along her right side.

Shawn stepped closer, resisting the urge to reach out and touch it.  He didn't think that would go over well with her partner. Starting at the base near her hip, his eyes moved up the stem to the blossom on her lower ribs. He couldn't help letting his gaze travel a little further, though he stopped when he felt Lassiter glaring at him. 

When he looked up at her face, she raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. Lassie wasn't the only one who had noticed. Shawn cleared his throat and grinned sheepishly at her.  “Nice. Very cool Jules.”

Gus nodded in agreement.

Juliet pulled her shirt back down. “Your turn, Carlton.” All three of them turned and looked expectantly at the older detective.

Lassiter sighed heavily. “Fine,” he growled. He pulled off his suit jacket and threw it over a chair. Next, his holster came off and was placed carefully on the table. He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped that off as well, leaving him in a white wife-beater.

“That's it Lassie, take it off,” Shawn teased. “Put a little more sway into those hips, give us a real show.” He glanced at Juliet, smirking as he saw her trying to hide a smile.

Lassiter glared at him. “My gun is sitting right there.”

“I bet it is,” Shawn couldn't help saying.

Lassiter growled, hands clenching into fists. “Watch it, Spencer.”

It was really too easy sometimes . “Whatever you want, Lassiekins,” he said with a grin.

“Quit teasing him Shawn,” Juliet said, voice stern but eyes dancing in amusement as she looked at him. “Carlton, you know he won't stop until you show us.”

Lassiter threw his shirt on the table and turned his back to them. Shawn could see the edges of the tattoo on his left shoulder peeking out around the edges of the  tank top . Lassiter reached back and pulled it aside. Shawn got a glimpse of a lone coyote howling against a desert backdrop before the shirt was pulled back into place. “Satisfied?”  Lassiter snapped.

“For now,” Shawn said  as Lassiter got dressed again. He bet there was an interesting story behind that tattoo that he could use to tease the detective. He was still surprised someone as uptight as Lassiter even had one.

His turn now. He turned to Gus and Juliet, smiling to hide his nerves. “ Time for the main event .”  He rolled up his sleeve and extended his arm. 

Juliet immediately pounced on it. “Oooo, a kitty!” she exclaimed.

Shawn rolled his eyes. “It's not a kitty, it's a leopard.” Which was much more manly than a cute little ball of fur. He twitched as Juliet took a firm grip on his arm, her small hand warm against his skin. She lightly touched the edge of the tattoo and he twitched again. “Careful. It's still itchy.”

“I think we know that by now,” Lassiter said dryly. He looked over Juliet's shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the tattoo himself.

“Maybe Juliet can figure out what those letters are,” Gus said, grinning slyly at him.

“What letters?” Juliet asked, looking up with interest.

“No letters,” Shawn said hurriedly, trying to tug his arm away. The last thing he needed was for Juliet to figure out those initials. However, she had a tight grip on his arm and wouldn't let go.

“Shawn got someone's initials hidden in the spots, but he won't tell me who,” Gus explained. “They were pretty blotchy before but maybe we can figure it out now.” He pointed out where they were and Juliet bent eagerly down to examine them.

Shawn looked helplessly over at Lassiter. The detective was watching them with his arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Nervous, Spencer?”

Shawn shook his head, plastering on a grin. “Nope. I have nothing to hide.”

“Hmmm.” Lassiter watched him another moment before his gaze thankfully went to his partner. “You got it yet, O'Hara?”

“I'm not sure, it's still kind of scabby,” she said uncertainly.  She bit lightly at her lower lip, brow furrowed in concentration. A strand of hair had come loose from her pony tail and fallen into her face. His hand was already raising to push it back before he caught himself, clenching his fist tightly against his side  to keep still . “ I think it's A. L,”  she said, looking up at him. “Wasn't there a girl at your reunion named Abigail?”

Shawn relaxed, thankful the initials had once again been read incorrectly. “Sorry Jules. Abigail is sweet, but it's not her.” Though the real person _had_ been there that night.

“Did I at least get the right letters?” she asked, pouting.

Shawn grinned. “You'll have to wait and see when it's done healing.”

“Let me see,” Lassiter said, pushing forward. “I bet I could figure it out.”

Shawn danced backwards quickly.  He wasn't about to tempt fate twice in one day. “Uh ah, detective, what's the magic word?” He had to  jump away again as the door opened suddenly behind him.

“ What is going on in here?” Vick asked. Her eyes landed on Shawn's exposed arm. “Mr. Spencer, is that a tattoo?”

“Yes, Chief, it is,” he said, quickly slipping his sleeve back down to cover it up. “But don't worry. It won't have any effect on my abilities. In fact, it may actually help me commune with the spirits better, particularly those of the feline persuasion.”

“I'll keep that in mind if we have any cat murders to solve,” she said dryly. “Now if everyone is done with show and tell, I have an actual case to brief you on.” She walked out the door, the two detectives quickly following after her.

Gus and Shawn followed more slowly behind them. “You know your dad is going to find out now,” Gus said.

Shawn sighed. He doubted Lassiter and Juliet would keep news of his tattoo quiet for long. His father had spies all over the station. It was only a matter of time. “ We could go to Mexico. Hide out until he forgets about it.”

Gus gave him a look. “You know how well that turned out last time.”

Shawn winced. “And I said I was sorry about the donkey thing. I bought you new pants.”

“We're not talking about it,” Gus said, glaring at him.

“Okay, okay,” Shawn said, holding up his hands placatingly. “No more talking about Mexico.”

“Good.” Gus grinned at him. “How about we talk about the fact you were ogling Jules while she showed us her tattoo?”

“I was not,” Shawn said quickly.

Gus snorted. “Dude, I saw your eyes wandering. I'm pretty sure Lassie and Juliet did too. You're lucky you didn't get shot.”

Vick stepped out of her office. “Today, gentlemen.”

“You know Jules wouldn't let Lassie shoot me,” Shawn said confidently, though he made a mental note not to be alone with the older detective for awhile. He wouldn't put it past Lassiter for there to be an unfortunate 'accident' in his future. Ignoring Gus's doubting look, he followed the Chief back into her office. “So, what have you got for us this time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not begging, but if you could leave a review, let me know what you think and how I'm doing, that would be great. Just a few words would be fine.
> 
> Otherwise, I will see you all next week with the final chapter.


	3. Cat Out of the Bag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly meant to post this sooner, but I got sick and the days passed by without me noticing. This is the chapter that differs the most from the previous story (for obvious reasons).
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it.

Shawn stared up at the ceiling in the Psych office, slowly spinning his chair back and forth. It had been a busy couple of weeks; three cases from the police department, the last of which hadn’t wrapped up until late last night. Gus was using the day to catch up on his route. He was planning on an _Airwolf_ marathon, just as soon as he had the energy to move over to the couch.

His father had finally tracked him down halfway through the first case. Henry had stormed into the station and demanded a private conversation with him. Shawn had tried to get out of it; he knew there were enough officers with tattoos on the force who would have backed him up if Henry started something in front of everyone. Problem was, his dad knew that as well and eventually won in getting Shawn alone.

However, the confrontation he was expecting never happened. His father had studied the tattoo for a couple minutes, and then looked up at him. “You take good care of this, kid,” Henry had said.

“I will,” Shawn had replied.

Henry had waited as if expecting Shawn to say something more. When he didn’t, Henry had sighed, wished him luck, and left.

Later he heard someone had asked his father if he wanted in on the pool of whose initials were on his arm. His dad had replied it wouldn’t be fair since he already knew who it was.

Shawn wasn’t sure how he felt about that. While he now understood Henry had given his approval of the relationship, he didn’t really want to discuss his love life with his father. Things were complicated enough already. He had decided to avoid Henry for a while; at least until he figured out what he was going to do about the whole situation.

He had also made sure to wear long sleeves any time he was around other people, making sure nobody got a glimpse of his tattoo and the damn initials everyone was so curious about. So far he had succeeded, but he knew it was only a matter of time until someone figured it out.

He scratched idly at his arm through the sleeve. The tattoo had mostly healed, but it was still itchy.

Someone behind him gave an exasperated sigh. “Shawn, what did we tell you about scratching?”

Shawn lifted his head and spun the chair around. Juliet was standing in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She looked pointedly at his arm and he quickly moved his hand away. “Jules! I thought you would be cooped up inside doing paperwork all day. Did you bribe someone to do it for you?”

Juliet smiled at his enthusiastic welcome. “I’m a cop, Shawn. We don’t bribe; we ask nicely after giving you full knowledge of the consequences.” She crossed the room until she was standing next to his desk. “The Chief gave us the day off. Said the paperwork would still be there for us tomorrow.” She shook her head. “I think she just wanted to get Carlton out of the station. He hasn’t slept for the last two days and he was getting vicious with the rookies.”

Shawn winced. “The last thing we needed is an armed, sleep-deprived Lassie.” He leaned back in his chair and tilted his head as he looked up at Juliet. “So of all the places you could be on your day off, what brings you to my humble office?”

“Well, it’s been a couple weeks,” Juliet said slowly, watching her fingers as she dragged them along the edge of the desk. “Your tattoo must be almost completely healed by now.”

“Pretty much,” Shawn agreed reluctantly. He knew where Juliet was going with this and he wasn't sure he was ready to let her look at it again.

“And everyone has been wondering whose initials those are.” Juliet looked up at him expectantly.

“You got a chance to look at them,” Shawn reminded her.

“But that was when it was all scabby and flaky.” She pouted, giving him a pleading look. “Please, Shawn?”

Shawn’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not trying to cheat to win the office pool, are you?”

“Who, me?” Juliet asked innocently, giving him a wide-eyed look. “I just want to make sure it’s healing okay. You have been scratching it a lot.”

Shawn sighed heavily. He could never saw no to her. He stood and rolled up his sleeve before extending his arm to Juliet.

He bit his lip as her small hand circled his wrist. His skin tingled where she was touching him, almost like a pins and needles feeling. He watched her as she studied his arm, her eyes moving from the head of the leopard near his elbow down the lithe body to where the tail curled near his wrist. She twisted his arm, using her free hand to trace the curled tail. He fought to hide his shiver at her touch.

“This is really good work,” Juliet said, glancing up at him. “Much better than you would expect from a shop catering to drunken tourists.”

_Crap_. “I got lucky?” he suggested.

Juliet looked down at his arm again. “Did you know each tattoo artist has their own style? My friend got a tattoo from a place on the boardwalk not far from here. Yours looks like it could have been done by the same guy.”

_Stay calm, Shawn. You can talk your way out of this._ “I was drunk, Jules. I’m not sure where I ended up.” He shrugged, making sure not to break eye contact. “It could have been that place for all I know.”

Juliet raised an eyebrow and pointed at his arm. “Adding those initials like that is a custom job. _Not_ something you get with a walk in.” She looked down, gently tracing the outline of the tattoo. “And the place _is_ close to here.”

Shawn sighed in defeat. No point denying what she had already figured out. “Okay, I may have gone there a couple of times, maybe with some pictures,” he admitted. “But I never would have gone through with it if I wasn’t drunk.”

Juliet gave him a shrewd look. “Just how drunk were you? Because most places won’t tattoo someone who is inebriated, even if they know them.”

“Drunk enough,” Shawn muttered. Why did Juliet have to be such a good detective? He tugged at his arm. “Are you done looking?”

“I still haven’t reexamined the initials.” She bent her head and studied his arm.

Shawn held perfectly still, hardly daring to breath. This was it; the moment of truth.

Juliet slowly lifted her head and looked up at him. “‘J. O.’” She took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes. “Shawn, those are my initials.”

“Congratulations. You're the first person to read them correctly,” Shawn said quietly. _With the possible exception of my father._

Juliet sighed. “Look, Shawn – ”

He cut her off before she could continue. “Their not your initials. I mean, they are but I didn't get them because of you. They stand for Jenny. . .” his eyes darted frantically around the office, “Olli. . .chesk. . .lamper. . .frisinkerous?” He would have smacked himself for the so obvious sounding fake name if Juliet wasn't still staring at him, stroking his arm. “Met her in Dallas. She died in a freak. . . um, freak. . . skate. . .thingy. . . accident.” He swallowed hard, looking down at where Juliet's fingers were lightly tracing the initials. “You know, that is really distracting,” he said hoarsely.

“The truth, Shawn,” Juliet said. Her face was carefully blank, giving Shawn no hint at all what she was thinking.

He swallowed hard and told her the truth. “They're yours,” he said quietly.

Juliet smiled. “That's what I thought.” She reached up and pulled his head down to kiss him.

Her lips were warm and soft, pressing against his gently. It took him a moment to get over his initial shock at the contact; then his lips were pressing back against hers, one hand moving to sit lightly on her hip. He let his tongue slip out and gently teased along her bottom lip.

That lick opened the flood gates. She deepened the kiss immediately, letting his tongue into her mouth as she pressed up against him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her close as he explored her mouth. In all his years fantasizing about this moment, he had never thought about the way she would taste; sweet, almost fruity.

She pressed against him harder, pushing him back into the desk. She came at him with a hunger that was only matched by the one inside him. Her tongue tangled with his, pushing into his mouth, tasting him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close so he couldn't get away.

Not that he wanted to. He reached one hand up to cup her face, fingers curling in her hair. The other splayed across her longer back, holding her flush against him. The only thing marring this moment was the desk digging into the backs of his legs but he would deal with any amount of pain to prolong the kiss.

However, nothing lasts forever, even wonderfully awesome kisses. Eventually they had to break apart, if only their mouths, so they could breathe. Shawn rested his forehead against Juliet's, looking into her dazzling blue eyes. “Hi.”

She smiled. “Hi.”

“I guess this means you approve?” Shawn asked with a grin.

Juliet nodded. “Very much so.”

“Good.” This time he kissed her. It was slower, less urgent than the first kiss, though no less intense. She tilted her head back and he took the invitation to explore the smooth skin of her neck, nipping lightly with his teeth. She shuddered against him. “Shawn,” she moaned, her grip on his neck tightening.

His hand slid under her shirt, running along the tattoo on her side. She gasped, arching up into the touch. He chuckled, loving how responsive she was to him.

She retaliated by slipping a hand under his own shirt, rubbing circles along his stomach right above the waistband of his jeans. He groaned, attacking her mouth again as he felt his arousal growing.

She nipped at his lower lip and pulled back, eyes dancing. “Now might be a good place to stop before I have to arrest both of us for public indecency.”

“We're indoors,” Shawn argued.

“With a giant window behind us anyone can look right through,” Juliet reminded him.

Shawn sighed and reluctantly let her go. “You're killing me here, Jules.”

Juliet grinned slyly as she looked down. “I'm pretty sure that won't kill you, though it may be uncomfortable for awhile.”

“You could always help me with that,” Shawn suggested, wagging his eyebrows

“Why Mr. Spencer, what kind of woman do you think I am?” she said with mock indignity.

“The kind who has a secret tattoo and molests unsuspecting psychics in their office.” She snorted in amusement as he stepped forward. He reached out and gently touched her side where her tattoo was currently hidden. “I'd love to get another look at this.”

“Are you sure you don't just want to get my shirt off?” Juliet teased.

Shawn shrugged. “I'm a guy, Jules. Of course I want to get your shirt off.” She smacked him on the arm, but continued to smile at him. “I'd also love to hear why you got it.”

Juliet's face clouded for a second and he worried he had said something wrong. But the next moment she was smiling again, touching his right arm lightly. “Of course. As long as you tell me about yours.”

“What do you want to know?” Shawn asked. Now that the secret was out, he didn't have any problem answering any questions she may have.

“For starters, why a leopard?” Juliet asked.

“Leopards are beautiful and deadly and people underestimate how intelligent they are.” Shawn smiled bashfully. “Just like you.”

Juliet blushed, looking away. “Do you really mean that?” she asked quietly.

“Of course I do.” He lifted her head until she was looking straight at him. “I'll have your initials on my arm for the whole world to see for the rest of my life, and I don't regret it for a second.”

Juliet's smile was dazzling as she pulled him into yet another kiss. She kept this one brief, though it was still enough to leave him breathless. “How did I manage to get such a great guy?”

Shawn feigned a hurt look. “Who? It's not Keith in forensics, is it?”

Juliet laughed and smacked him on the chest. “I mean you.”

Shawn grinned at her. “Well, that's good. I don't like to share.” He shook his head. “The real question is, how did I manage to convince such a terrific woman like you to settle for me?”

Juliet smiled warmly. “There was no settling involved. You're a heck of a catch, Shawn Spencer.”

“And you're a hell of a woman, Juliet O'Hara,” Shawn said fondly. The look she gave him was hot enough to bring the issue of public indecency back into question and he quickly looked away. “So, uh, what do you want to do with the rest of your day off?”

“We could pick up some food and head back to my place,” Juliet suggested. At his look she grinned. “Or we could go straight to my place and order food later.”

“Definitely have to go with option number two,” Shawn said emphatically. He gestured toward the doorway. “Lead the way, detective.”

Juliet walked towards the door, putting a sway into her hips that should definitely be illegal. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that he still had a car ride to get through. He grabbed his phone, resisting the urge to send a quick text to Gus. He could tell his friend the good news later. Right now, he needed to catch up with the woman who had held his heart for longer than he wanted to admit. A woman who he never thought he had a chance with and was finally his.

Shaking his head at his good fortune, he headed out after Juliet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thinking about writing what happens when they get back to Juliet's apartment. I'll post it as a separate story so I don't have to up the rating on this one. I haven't written Shules smut before but I think its about time I give it a try.
> 
> Anyone interested?


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